


A Wind of Change

by Bearit



Category: Book of Mormon -- Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-19 22:48:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearit/pseuds/Bearit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years after the events of "The Book of Mormon," Kevin Price and Arnold Cunningham struggle to adjust to what awaits them at home in Utah. When all seems hopeless, an old friend decides to pop into town.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The mix of booming bass, people hollering and shouting to what they called “music,” and the empty plastic clank of balls on the beer pong table was so loud that Kevin Price would have missed the text if his cell phone had not been on vibrate. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and smiled when he saw the sender’s name and his message.

“how r u doing bff”

He swiped his finger across the screen and started typing in a response when his girlfriend, Sarah Brown, leaned into his shoulder.

“Who are you texting?” she nearly screamed into his ear. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t fault her for doing that. It was the only way to get heard around here. Still, he wanted to shove her away and tell her that it was none of her damn business, but he reminded himself that they were among mutual friends, and he had to be nice.

“Mission companion,” he said as he finished off the too impersonal text (“Good u?”) and pocketed his phone. “Where’re your friends?”

She shrugged and scooted closer to him, and Kevin was dismayed that the arm of the couch prevented him from inching away. She was being rather forward for the nice Mormon girl his parents wanted him to finally settle down with, but that was far from his problem.

“Did they leave?”

Sarah Brown nodded. Figured. Kevin was only surprised they came here in the first place, but at least now he could finally get up and get a drink already. Those girls, plus Sarah Brown, and technically Kevin himself, were the only Mormons in the joint. Everyone else at this party was made up of all the rest of the non-Mormons at the University of Utah, Kevin was pretty sure, who had just gotten back from their trip to Evanston, Wyoming for their monthly booze run.

“You can go too, if you want.”

Sarah Brown shook her head. “Someone needs to look after you.”

Kevin scowled and stood from the couch. “No one asked you to,” he muttered as he made his way to the kitchen.

Different colored and shaped bottles of liquor and Red Solo Cups lined the counters and tabletops in a messy order, and many of them, thank God, were still at least half full. Most people were probably spending their time at the kegs anyway or drinking their cheerleader beer or whatever. At eleven o’clock, for non-Mormons, the Saturday night was still young, especially for the last hoorah before finals.

His phone buzzed again. “doing ok,” Arnold Cunningham texted back. “miss u.”

“Miss u 2 buddy. Hang in there. I’ll call soon.”

Kevin could not help but to hate the Cunninghams for what they had done to their son since they returned from Uganda. What good was sending him back to Provo going to do? A diploma from Brigham Young University wasn’t going to be enough to change the Church’s mind, no matter how many strings Mr. Cunningham tried to pull to get his son ex-excommunicated. If Kevin’s parents could not get his disfellowshipment reversed with all their community service and even reminding the leaders of the church of all the good that Kevin had done before, after, and even at Uganda, then Arnold stood no chance.

And besides, he was pretty sure that the Cunninghams did not for a second ask what Arnold wanted. As soon as they stepped off the plane at Salt Lake City International Airport, Arnold was gone from Salt Lake City and back in the hellhole that was Provo, and he sounded worse and worse every time Kevin talked with him on the phone.

Not that Kevin’s parents were much better about the whole thing. They had wanted to send him to BYU, too, but Kevin was quicker and managed to get a full-ride scholarship to the University of Utah. They still forced him to attend Sunday services and they had set him up on many dates with nice, Mormon girls in hopes that love would set him back on the path of righteousness or whatever bullshit like that. Only one, Sarah Brown, had been able to put up with his rebellious stances against his family and the Church, and that was only because she was a plain-looking wallflower who never had the guts to speak to him while they were in high school, and now, finally, she was the girlfriend of a stupid crush that just wouldn’t die. Like hell she’d let go of him now.

Whatever, though. If it appeased Kevin’s parents enough that they’d get off his case on the other things, then he could deal, for now. He was just going to let her make all the calls.

“Kevin!” she cried as she pulled the vodka bottle of his hands. “You shouldn’t drink that! If the bishops knew—”

“What, Heavenly Father already does. He’s not smiting me, or anyone at this party. So big whoop.”

“But you could be excommunicated!”

“For drinking?”

But Kevin knew what she meant. Disfellowshipment was only a step away from excommunication, and no matter how many community service events and soup kitchens and home-building opportunities he attended, any minor slippage away from the teachings of the Mormon Church would get him thrown out in an instant.

Still, he didn’t care. He just couldn’t believe that he wasn’t excommunicated yet, given that Arnold had fallen to apostasy out of his good heart and trying to make people’s lives better while Kevin rebelled for reasons other than. He only agreed to go with his parents to all these different charities because it was the right thing to do—not for Heavenly Father, mind you, but for the good of humanity. He only wished his parents could see that instead of interpreting his actions as those of a lost, confused boy who was led astray by a false wannabe-prophet in Uganda and who so desperately wanted to become a true Latter Day Saint again.

Blind idiots. Kevin still couldn’t believe he used to be one of them, and he had been proud of it, too!

Once again, his phone buzzed, and Kevin ignored Sarah to read the text. “ok sorry if i’m bothering u.”

“Never a bother buddy.”

He hit send and went back to scouring the counter for a suitable drink when his eyes fell upon a familiar bottle of cheap rum. On Elder McKinley’s last day in Uganda, Mutumbo had managed to pilfer a couple of bottles of this brand for the small going-away party. It was the first time Kevin Price had dared to drink, and he had shoved a plastic cup full of it into Elder McKinley’s hands.

“Come on, they’re never going to let you back in the Church anyway the way you defied them and your folks to stay here,” he had slurred. “Drink!”

And Elder McKinley did.

How Kevin could still remember this was beyond him. He had been so drunk, and embarrassingly only off of two shots! Now, holding the rum bottle, he remembered also what those pesky tiny shots had compelled him to do, and despite all his protests and actions of rebellion, this was one secret he desperately kept to himself.

Did Elder McKinley ever come out to his family, much less the Church? Was it even right to call him Elder McKinley anymore?

Kevin knew nothing about any of the friends he had made in Uganda. No more missionaries were sent there after him and Arnold, and most of those who had been there before caved to the pressures of the Church and their parents and left. The rest had stayed to finish what they had gone there to do, and all of them had friended him on Facebook, though Kevin never accepted any of their requests except for Arnold. Arnold, who probably more than happily clicked the Confirm button as soon as the requests came to him, or more likely, sent all the friend requests himself. Kevin never spent any time on that site anyway except to accept party invitations that he just knew would make his parents’ blood curdle.

But most pointedly, he denied Michael McKinley’s friend request and briefly toyed at the idea of blocking him outright.

Kevin glanced over at Sarah, who had a hopeful smile on her face. How long had he been staring at this bottle? He wrinkled his nose and grabbed a clean Solo Cup from the top of the stack and poured the rum a good third of the way. To add further salt to the wound that was all over Sarah Brown’s face, he filled the rest of the cup to the brim with Coke.

How many of these, plus maybe a game of beer pong or two, would it take for him to black out completely?

\---

Arnold Cunningham knew that he was losing the staring contest between him and his stupid old flip-phone. His father had promised an iPhone for when he returned from his mission in Uganda, but that was before the Book of Arnold and before the excommunication. So now he was stuck with this piece of junk and constant phone calls from his parents yelling at him to quit texting so much and get back to studying so that he could stop being a disappointment to the family already.

Okay, so maybe they never actually voiced the last part, but Arnold knew. Arnold knew that no matter what his brothers and sisters did for the Church, there was a nasty taint on the Cunningham name and he knew that he was all to blame for it. And no matter how many times Elder Price—Kevin—told him otherwise, no matter how many times Elder McKinley—Michael—thanked him for everything he had done for him, the more time Arnold spent at BYU, the more he knew that his parents and the Church were absolutely right. This was not a hole he could ever climb out of. So why bother?

He missed Uganda. He missed people quieting down when he opened his mouth to speak instead of being talked right on over as though he wasn’t even in the room. He missed everyone coming to him every day to thank him for giving them hope and something to believe in instead of people mocking the way he spoke and snickering at him when he walked past. And most of all, he missed Kevin Price’s easy if disillusioned smile and strong arm around his shoulder whenever he was having a bad day and Nicaragua’s beautiful face and shy giggles whenever they walked along the trickle of the creek by her village.

Provo _sucked_.

“Hey, Arnold,” grumbled his roommate from the top bunk. “Turn it off. We have church in the morning.”

“Sorry,” Arnold mumbled and he stashed the cell phone under his pillow.

He still couldn’t believe he was allowed back in church, but he guessed his dad had something to do with it, being friends with some higher-up here at BYU and everything. That’s how he got in for cheap in the first place. Plus he had a lot of meetings with the bishops every week who counseled him on how he could get let back into the Church, but he never really listened to what they had to say. It was just like the Book of Mormon itself: so _boring_! At least the Book of Arnold had lightsabers!

“Do you even want to be part of the Church again?” Kevin had asked him many times when they talked on the phone. “Trust me, it’s not so great.”

Hearing the great Kevin Price say that was not as reassuring as Arnold had hoped, and the last time they spoke, Arnold replied, “If it gets my parents to stop hating me, I do.”

“They don’t hate you, and if they did, do you really want conditional love from your family like that?”

“Easy for you to say. You’re already headed straight for the top again, aren’t you?”

Arnold hadn’t meant to sound so spiteful, and he knew it was no excuse but he had just heard his mother go on and on about all the wonderful things Kevin was doing for the community even though he’d been disfellowshipped, and that he was doing so well in school, and that he had a girlfriend now and since they’d been together for a couple of months now they were sure to be engaged soon.

But Kevin sounded confused instead of hurt. “Wait, is _that_ the impression I’m leaving on those people? God damn it.”

“Kevin!” Arnold had cried. “You can’t damn Heavenly Father like that!”

“I—okay, fine, you’re right. Look, things aren’t so shiny for me either—”

“Shiny?”

“Yeah, I watched _Firefly_ , and I liked it. A lot, actually. Thanks for the rec. Anyway,” Kevin paused. “Okay, yeah, I guess I don’t have it as bad as you. When are you coming back here?”

“Christmas.”

“We’ll have to hang out.”

Though Arnold was not looking forward to finals (WoW was a much better alternative to studying material he had no interest in), and he was not looking forward to spending Christmas break with his disapproving father, his disappointed mother, his mocking and sneering siblings, and his tsking aunts and uncles, and a grandmother he couldn’t even look in the eye anymore, he was looking forward to having a friend in his life again, even if it was a friend he was sure was super annoyed with him by now. After all, now that they were no longer in Uganda, Kevin Price could leave him whenever he wanted, just like everyone else in his life ever did.

Arnold jumped when his pillow violently vibrated, and he excitedly pulled the phone out from beneath it.

“Gosh darn it, Arnold, I said _off_ not _vibrate_ , it’s past midnight!”

“Sorry.”

But Arnold wasn’t sorry, not in the least bit, not even when the text he got back from Kevin said, “Hty let nd call in ghd morning dyunkkkk sugary buddy.” In fact, he held his hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out into obnoxious laughter. There was something comforting in knowing that Kevin was drinking tonight and would likely not go to Church in the morning because of it. Plus, “sugary buddy.” Kevin Price was not going to live that one down.

“lol ok have fun try calling after lunch ok?” Arnold responded before he turned the phone off, like his roommate insisted, and dropped it onto the desk right above his head. Well, at least he now had something to look forward to after the services were done. That was enough to get him through the morning.

It was, after all, only the little things that kept him going anymore.

\---

“Kevin Joseph Price!”

Ow, the sunlight hurt, but not nearly as much as his mother’s screeching voice. Maybe if he just laid perfectly still…

“Wake up this instant, young man! I’m not even upset about the fact that there’s no way you’re going to be ready for Church at this rate. How _dare_ you make Sarah bring you home in that kind of state? The poor girl! Can you imagine the humiliation she’s sure to face today, and for weeks to come, because of the stunt you pulled?”

Not the first time I’ve ever been drunk, Kevin wanted to say, but he held his tongue, at least on that bit. “’Least I’m home alive.”

“You almost weren’t if your father would have had anything to say about it!”

“Oh, great, so murder is now a family value, fantastic.”

“Don’t get mouthy with me, young man! You know you shouldn’t be drinking, and yet you do it anyway!”

“’m twenty-two, I can do what I want.”

“Not if you want to be a full member of the Mormon Church, you can’t!”

This was not an argument Kevin wanted to have again, so instead he said in protest, his voice still muffled even to his own ears against his pillow, “Ma, not going to church today, leave me alone.”

“Well, I think for once that’s something we can both agree on. I can’t bring you out in public like that!” Kevin rolled his eyes as he drifted back to sleep to his mother’s rambling. When he woke again, the house was quiet minus the barking dogs in the backyard, and he knew that this rare chance to have the place to himself was not to be wasted, so he pulled himself out of bed and over to his desk to get some homework done.

Boring, he knew, but it was Sunday and if he was caught doing work, even for school, the lecture he would have to withstand would be more than he could bear. Leaving the house for any reason was unacceptable, too; it was Family Day, not that every other evening wasn’t Family Day anyway. But finals week was upon him, and he needed to keep his scholarship, so he needed to keep his GPA up. He refused to give his parents a reason to take the roof over his head away, too, as a “told you so” gesture for not going to BYU instead.

Pft, “family” indeed.

Speaking of which, he checked his cell phone, which was hovering low on battery. Oh, so Arnold had replied last night, but Kevin did not cringe nearly as hard at ditching his best friend as he did at the last text he had sent him. Yikes. Had he really been that drunk?

But Arnold was at Church, and there was little point in trying to call now. Fine, he would just have to wait until that sweet spot between Arnold being released from services to when his parents arrived at home. Kevin had gotten good at it by now, and he hoped that Arnold had not been too hurt at Kevin’s inability to speak last night.

The computer finished booting up, and Kevin went through the motions of opening his browser and typing in his university username and password for his email. Eventually he would get this stuff forwarded to his Gmail account, but he enjoyed having this tiny separation between his Mormon life and his non-Mormon life too much. It was too symbolic, and he would take the extra few minutes a day to check both accounts separately for as long as he could, as long as he needed to.

Between Saturday and Sunday, there weren’t a lot of emails sent except by some of his Mormon group project members who had spent the night studying instead of partying and had managed to get some work done. Well, at least these were stuff he could put off until tomorrow and no one would complain. Besides, they were not due until Thursday. So no big deal. Someone in his class asking for help on an assignment here, a lengthy email from Sarah Brown (oh great) there…

And an email from Michael McKinley?

How did he…?

Kevin stared at the unopened message in his inbox. The size was only a couple of kilobytes, so at least it wasn’t long, but when it came to Elder McKinley the message didn’t need to be long. Did Kevin even want to open this?

Oh, man _up_ , he chided himself and he double-clicked the bolded letters of the subject line. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was addressed to Arnold Cunningham too, but the message quickly took all of that away:

“Hey, guys! I’m coming to SLC for the holidays. Do you want to go grab a bite to eat while I’m in town and catch up? Let me know when your winter breaks are! xoxo, Michael McKinley”

Crap.

Oh, crap, crap, crap.

Ignoring the rapid fluttering in his chest, Kevin instantly deleted the email without a moment’s hesitation as his mouse flew straight over the reply button. Turn it off, Elder McKinley had first advised him in Uganda. So turn it off Kevin intended to do by turning the Mormon heavily _on_.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh Mikey,” his mother cooed as he walked through the door, suitcase and shopping bags full of brightly colored packages in hand. She ushered him to the side, took his bags, and whispered, glancing over at her father-in-law sitting on the couch and engrossed in the basketball game on the television. “Could you have maybe dressed a little less… homosexual?”

Michael McKinley frowned. “It’s just a scarf, Mom.” A rather nice one too. The H&M on the 16th Street Mall was a godsend. At least he didn’t choose to wear the one with the shiny golden flakes embedded in the dark magenta yarn, as much as he adored it. This scarf was a modest green with no fancy stitching. It was the “straightest” one he had.

“And the turtleneck?”

“Grandpa’s not going to know I’m gay just by the way I’m dressed.” But he relented and took the scarf off. No need to stir up the drama pot before Christmas, not when this was the first time he had been invited back to family events since he came out to everyone in his church and his family, save for his grandfather who had (“fortunately” claimed Mr. McKinley) been on vacation in Seattle.

Michael’s mother and older sister had taken it the best despite their ingrained prejudices, but at least they still called him Mikey. Everyone else had gone from calling him Mikey or Mike to the too impersonal Michael, and those he had grown up with and gone to church with in Pocatello, Idaho didn’t even talk to him anymore.

It was just as well. It paved the way for a true fresh start in Denver, not having to worry about obligations back home. He preferred the community he found in the Mile High City more anyway, a community that was riddled with many gay ex-Mormons like himself. He had found his niche outside of Uganda, and he could not be more thankful for it. They easily picked up where Uganda and Elder Cunningham had left off in coaxing him out of his shell, the hell dreams were a lot more infrequent, and it was harder and harder every day to fall back into turning his feelings off whenever things got particularly bad.

Which was bad for his winter break in Salt Lake City to visit his family at his grandfather’s ranch by the lake, where his sister now lived with her husband, children, and their grandfather. While Michael’s mother and sister had been more than happy to fly down to Denver to see his performance with the gay men’s chorus, the others not only adamantly denied the invitation but made it very clear on Facebook the days leading up to his arrival in SLC that he needed to “behave” himself.

Michael knew that meant that if he slipped and acted “too gay,” no amount of protest from his mother and sister would do any good, and he would need to find somewhere to crash fast, which was easier said than done. He had two part-time jobs to get him through college, and after spending what little he had left on plane tickets here for Christmas and back to Uganda for a week over summer vacation to see Nabulungi and the others again and presents for his nieces and nephews, he was dead broke.

“Mikey!” his older sister Melissa cried as she came into the living room, her belly round with her third child and a plate of the most delicious smelling chocolate chip cookies in hand. “I missed you!”

“Missed you too, sissy,” said Michael as he kissed her on the cheek. “How have you been?”

Melissa led Michael through the living room and into the kitchen as she rambled on and on about her oldest daughter starting the first grade, her husband’s new job, the one that had taken her family from Pocatello to Salt Lake City, and all the gossip of her new neighbors and the members of the congregation she was now a part of. Michael smiled and nodded along, dodging the little children chasing each other around the house as their parents—Michael’s other siblings and cousins—chided them. None of them gave Michael another glance, but was that his cousin shyly smiling at him?

That was definitely promising.

“But the Prices are a really great family, a true inspiration to all us Mormons—”

Wait, what?

“They do so much charity work, even with their oldest son’s disfellowshipment. He must have gone through a really hard time because of it, but he’s come around, finally, and he seems really determined to be let back into the Church!”

“Kevin Price?” Michael ventured cautiously.

Melissa’s eyes shone as she raised the platter of cookies above her head so the grubby hands of their nephews couldn’t reach them. “Yeah! Oh, that’s right, you both had your missions in Africa, didn’t you?”

Michael nodded, pushing the memory of his last night in Uganda—the taste of rum, the mashing of lips, the dancing of tongues, and the grinding of hips—to the far, far reaches of his brain. Turn it off, he reminded himself. Turn it off now.

“Maybe you’ll have a chance to reconnect with him while you’re here. When you come with us to church tomorrow—”

“I’m not going to church.”

“Oh.” Melissa’s eyes were downcast as she set the plate down. Michael cringed. He didn’t think he sounded harsh at all but maybe he didn’t matter how he said the words, the words still stung. But she was quick to shrug off those negative emotions in that trademark McKinley way and she smiled brightly. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a chance to see him. He has a girlfriend now, you know.”

No, he didn’t know.

“Kind of a plain girl, but very sweet, very quiet. She must have done wonders for him. They’ve been together for a couple of months now. An engagement shouldn’t be too far off now!”

This was too much; this he couldn’t turn off. “Hey, sissy, sorry, but I’m feeling a little exhausted from the trip. I need a nap.”

“Oh, of course, I’m being rude to my own baby brother! Honey—” she called to her husband watching the game with their grandfather. “—make sure the kids don’t touch the cookies. Can’t have them spoiling their appetite.”

“Okay, dear.”

“You don’t have to, Mel,” said Michael, glancing down at her belly. “I’ve spent as many summer vacations and Christmases here as you have. Just tell me what room I’m sleeping in—”

“I’m pregnant, not helpless,” she chided. “Mom probably already took your bags there. If she didn’t, I’ll make one of your brothers do it.”

“Not John or Robbie,” Michael moaned, but Melissa ignored him and led him to his room. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his bags there already. “Thanks, sis.”

“Anytime. I’ll have one of the kids come grab you for dinner when it’s ready.” Then Melissa was gone, and Michael was left all alone.

He whipped out his cell phone and saw that he had no new emails, and his heart sank. Arnold had responded as soon as, best Michael could tell, he was released from Sunday services last week, and though the two had included Kevin in the exchanges, Kevin typed not a single letter back. Michael checked, double checked, and triple checked the email address over and over again and worried that maybe he had messaged the wrong Kevin Price at the University of Utah, but no, there was only the one, and Arnold would have been quick to forward the email chain to the right address if Michael had gotten it wrong.

Michael McKinley had turned off the hurt when days, then weeks, then months had gone by after Kevin and Arnold finally returned from Uganda and Kevin had not accepted his friend request on Facebook. At first he thought that maybe Kevin was not an avid Facebook user, but he often “liked” and sometimes even responded to Arnold’s statuses, and Arnold was on Facebook minutely. But Michael turned off the hurt because there was nothing else he could do, Kevin being in Salt Lake City and Michael being in Denver. He didn’t want to be a bother, so if Kevin wanted nothing to do with him anymore, then so be it.

But these feelings, not too unlike those he had once had for Steve Blade, were not as easy to destroy as he thought. Every night before Michael went to bed, he thought about that rum-filled moment when he finally dared to do something he had wanted to do for over a year but had desperately suppressed, but with the alcohol flowing in his veins, something that the Church of Arnold had decided was okay for parties only, he had found the courage and was rewarded with Kevin kissing back, pulling at his tie and dancing his fingers along the waist of Michael’s pants until they were both nearly naked in the dark of the Ugandan night and Arnold and Nabulungi were desperately calling for them.

Then Kevin was gone and Michael never saw him again.

He had hesitated for days before finally sending the email to Kevin and Arnold. He had typed it out several times, paragraphs long at first, and even considered emailing the two separately. He knew Arnold would be more than happy to see him and he knew that he would somehow convince Kevin to join them, so he only hoped that that was what Arnold was up to behind the scenes.

But would Kevin tell Arnold what had happened between them? And if he did, how would Arnold react? Arnold had been the one to convince and inspire Michael to be true to himself during one of his sermons in Uganda, a theme he undoubtedly took from one of his many favorite movies and TV shows, and it helped Michael realize that by turning off the gay, he was still pretending, and he was still lying, and that was the one thing he could not abide by.

Michael had come out to Kevin first, and Kevin had flashed him one of his brilliant smiles, the innocence in it long gone but the beauty shining brighter than ever, clapped Michael on the shoulder, and said, “I’m happy for you, Elder McKinley.”

He didn’t know what Kevin had meant by those words, but it was in that moment that Michael knew that his feelings for Kevin was more than fleeting despite knowing that Kevin was straight. He had to be. He was once the ultimate Mormon poster boy, after all. Mormon poster boys were not gay, but Michael could not help but to live for Kevin Price’s smiles and easy charisma.

Michael fell on the bed and stared at the phone, “using the Force” as Arnold would say to try to get either one of them to reply to his last message to them sooner. This was stupid. Even if Michael McKinley had any intentions to win Kevin Price over, if Kevin had a girlfriend, he wasn’t going to try anything. He wasn’t that kind of person.

And just… just of course Kevin had a girlfriend now. Of course he did. It was what good Mormon boys did after they returned from their mission: they settled down and got married. Kevin probably only took this long because of his disfellowshipment, something that Michael thought was completely unfair, but not more unfair than what Arnold Cunningham had suffered because of what had happened in Uganda.

But this made no sense. Out of all the missionaries in Uganda, by the end of the day, Kevin Price was the last person who would want to go back to the way things were. Or had all of that been a ruse?

Finally, Michael sighed and sent another reply to Arnold and only Arnold.

“Hey, if Kevin’s too busy, we can hang out just the two of us. Let me know.”

He settled his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Maybe it really was time to get over Kevin Price after all.

\---

Arnold Cunningham saw the email just before he logged into his Star Wars: The Old Republic account and frowned. He was hoping that Kevin wasn’t hitting Reply All when he responded, but apparently he wasn’t even talking to Elder McKinley, either. Which… okay, that made some sense, since Kevin didn’t have him friended on Facebook, but that was the part that made no sense at all! Kevin and Elder McKinley seemed kind of close in Uganda even if it was only because of Kevin’s charisma and Elder McKinley’s status among the missionaries.

Maybe Kevin really was busy? Or, more than likely, he had decided he had finally had enough of Arnold, and like he did with Elder McKinley, he dumped him out of the blue without an explanation of why. It wouldn’t be the first time Arnold suffered this kind of rejection, but this was the first time it hurt this badly.

“yeah ok,” he responded to Elder McKinley’s email. “does tomorrow work for u?” Arnold paused. Crud, tomorrow’s Sunday, and he needed to go to church and Elder McKinley might—oh. Yeah. Right. Elder McKinley was not a Mormon anymore. By choice. He deleted the last sentence and tried again. “does mon work? i’m free all day”

With that, he sent the email and pulled his headset on to drown out the merry laughter and voices of his family downstairs. They weren’t having that much fun when he was down there for dinner earlier. Arnold would have been used to it if everyone hadn’t looked so constipated as they ate. Fine. He was happier up here with his online friends who didn’t know anything about him except that he was a Level 50 Jedi Knight and that he was probably lying about having been to Uganda just to seem cool.

Arnold wished that was true, for once. He wished that he had just made Uganda up, now more than ever, since Kevin wasn’t even talking to him anymore. Narcissa thought he was dead since he told her that he was going back to Salt Lake City and everyone in Uganda thought that meant Heaven, and no prophet can rise from the dead twice except for maybe Jesus if He really wanted to. So she was probably married now anyway, just like he was supposed to be. Good thing he had even less interest in all the nice Mormon girls than they had in him. Kevin could have all of them. He deserved all of them. Arnold only wanted Nephara—Nica—Nala—

“HEY!” the voice of one of his team members yelled in his ear. “Don’t just stand there; you’re dying and we kind of need you for this!”

“Sorry!” he cried and his fingers flew over the keyboard to contribute to the battle at hand. He just barely managed to scrap out of it with some HP left, and he apologized to his team over and over again.

Great, now he was of little good to the Light Side. How much longer before his team all abandoned him, too? And Elder McKinley wasn’t going to be in Salt Lake City forever, and neither was Arnold, for that matter. And surely, now that they didn’t have Mormonism, the mission, or Kevin Price to connect them, he would also be long gone in no time.

And then what would even be the point?

He should have never left Uganda, and now, he could never go back.

\---

Kevin Price was sorely uncomfortable with Sarah Brown latching onto his arm like this, but they were with her friends and their boyfriends and fiancés and for one, husband, so he just pasted on a big smile and pretended like he was the happiest person in the world. Damn, but Sarah sure was chatty when she was with her friends.

“Oh, and I especially loved the part where Bella and Edward—”

 _Oh, Heavenly Father, if You even exist, which I’m pretty sure You don’t now more than ever_ , Kevin silently prayed. _What have I done to deserve seeing_ all _the Twilight movies? Couldn’t You have just given me the Hell dreams, You sick fuck?_

But Kevin knew what he had done to merit seeing the latest Twilight movie with his girlfriend and all her friends, and he supposed it was exactly what he deserved. He had promised Arnold that he would call, and nearly two weeks later, he had yet to follow through to any text message or email or voicemail or anything that he sent him, and not all of them were about Elder McKinley. They ranged anywhere from “r u ok” to “r u mad at me” to “sorry,” and they were enough to make Kevin feel like a right dick.

Yeah, the Hell dreams would have been too nice, not that Kevin had had them in a while. Not since that night in Uganda with Elder McKinley.

He resisted the urge to check his phone to see if Arnold had texted him or emailed him or something, or even if Elder McKinley did. But by turning the Mormon on, he had to be the perfect boyfriend, and perfect boyfriends weren’t obsessed about talking to other guys while out on a big group date, and certainly not an excommunicated friend and a gay ex-Mormon, and especially not a gay ex-Mormon that the perfect Mormon boyfriend had nearly—

And perfect Mormon boyfriends would have never had such an experience. Perfect Mormons didn’t! He wouldn’t have even gotten drunk in the first place, or have urged a man on the verge of leaving the Church outright to do so, and he would have pushed Elder McKinley away or something, anything but what Kevin had actually done, had actually almost done, and all without even thinking about it.

Oh. Was this why Heavenly Father thought it would be grand to force Kevin Price to watch every single last Twilight movie with his sighing girlfriend and her cooing friends? The only comfort Kevin had was that at least the rest of the guys were only slightly more thrilled about it than he was.

He could have been with Arnold helping him piece together the last of his hobbit costume for that movie coming out. Came out? Aw, shit. Another broken promise.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” cooed Sarah Brown. “If you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go to Chili’s.”

Huh? What happened? “No, I’m fine,” he lied, even though perfect Mormon boys did not lie. “We can go.”

What was wrong with her going to Chili’s by herself with her friends was his unasked question. Yes, perfect Mormon couples did everything together, or so it seemed, but he was starting to feel really bad about how he was treating Arnold and wanted nothing more than to run over to the Cunninghams’ and do… something. Hang out. Cleanse Twilight out of his brain for something awesome. Arnold had talked about doing a marathon of Lord of the Rings before they saw the new movie. That would be more than enough.

Before he knew it though, he was sitting at a large booth squished like anchovies against Sarah Brown on one side and the handsome, well-built fiancé of one of her friends on the other. This was torture, but he knew that he could not even eyeball the alcohol menu if he wanted to keep the perfect Mormon boy ruse going for as long as Elder McKinley was in town. He couldn’t even have a stupid Coke. The girls ordered lemonade and the guys stuck with water, and Kevin found himself yearning for everything he could not have in this company, so he settled with a Sprite.

While the girls kept talking about the movie and the guys engaged in conversation about football or whatever, the guy next to him nudged him and smirked.

“Everyone is always talking about the good Sarah’s done for you, but you’ve done a lot of good for her, too,” he said. “Forgive me for saying, but she looks more gorgeous tonight than I’ve ever seen her?”

“Huh?” Kevin had not noticed, but he had noticed how the green of this guys’s eyes were a shade or two darker than Elder McKinley’s. He felt his face flush and quickly turned to examine Sarah, who was wearing lipstick and eye shadow, but there was nothing else particularly striking about her. The same old plain Sarah Brown. What was this guy talking about?

“It’s only fitting that the great Kevin Price would someday marry the hottest Mormon girl that ever graced this earth,” the guy laughed. “Good for you.”

“Your fiancée’s right there,” snapped Kevin.

“Whoa, hey now, I’m not trying to—”

“Just stop, okay?”

Then Kevin frowned and looked at Sarah Brown again. Was she pretty? Her mousy brown hair was straightened today, yeah, and there was something kind of different about her face, but she was still very unremarkable to him.

And would everyone quit assuming that he was intending to marry her someday? They weren’t even near out of college yet. So why…

Oh, thank God, his phone buzzed. Was it Arnold? It needed to be Arnold. But no, it was his mother asking where he was and when he was going to be home since they had church in the morning. After answering her question, in which he received a smiley and an “Okay sweetie, take your time and have fun,” he thought about sending one to Arnold, and he thought about it over and over again but then finally decided not to and he pocketed his phone again, trying his best to engage in the group's conversation but ending the night in utter failure in the task, wishing more and more that Arnold was here so that everyone else would feel just as awkward as he did now.

Being the perfect Mormon boy really did suck balls. Stupid Elder McKinley. Why did he have to come here anyway?

That night was not allowed to have happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Arnold woke up to his cell phone buzzing against the wood of his nightstand and he instantly shot up and grabbed it, heart pounding. From nerves or from excitement, he had no idea which one: was it Elder McKinley confirming plans for tomorrow? Was it Elder McKinley canceling?

But it wasn't Elder McKinley; it was Kevin Price.

Kevin?

Arnold gulped and moved his thumb across the keypad to open the message, fearing the worst. Kevin was really going to dump him now, wasn't he? Why else would he send him a message this early on a Sunday morning after two weeks of nothing? What else could it possibly be but "I'm sorry but we can't be best friends anymore"?

The message Arnold saw instead made no sense: "Hey ask ur folks if u can come to my church today instead of theirs. I'll pick u up."

"What?" Arnold asked to his empty bedroom and then replied, "ok but i dont think theyll let me"

As he waited for Kevin to respond, he listened for the familiar sounds of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, but the sizzling of bacon was all he needed to hear to know that his parents were awake. Truth be told, he was pretty sure his parents would be thrilled that he was going to be attending the Sunday services with the awesome Kevin Price, rumors flying that the bishops and other Church leadership were _this_ close to allowing him back full-fold. "You can pick up a few tips from him!" his father would say, thinking that Kevin would be the best influence to getting his son's excommunication reversed.

And normally, any other day, any other lifetime, Arnold would have been ecstatic at the invite. Not just from Kevin, but from any other person his age, but especially from Kevin, all the same. Now… now what? Kevin wanted to talk. Maybe he was going to dump Arnold in person, at church, or even after.

Finally his phone vibrated again. "They will just ask."

"y"

Arnold regretted the text the instant he hit "Send," but he had no interest in going with Kevin to church if he was just going to be dumped on the spot. Absolutely not. If he was going to withstand the feeling of worthlessness today, it would be in the cold comfort of his own church, thanks.

He waited a full five minutes before he gave up on Kevin responding and pulled himself out of bed to get dressed. Yeah, just as he thought. He dug his slacks and clean-pressed shirt out of the laundry basket his mother had stuffed into his room a couple of days ago and pulled them on, but the last three buttons were not yet clasped when Kevin responded.

Arnold didn't want to read the text. He wanted to finish getting ready, go downstairs and eat breakfast, and then go to church peacefully. He did not want to give Kevin Price the satisfaction of dumping him, not today, not on his terms, and really, not ever again. But he was unable to button those last three buttons and curiosity and hope got the better of him, and he reached over to where he had tossed his phone on the bed and flipped it open.

"I want to hang out with u sorry I've been busy" ( _What, with dates with Little Miss Perfect Mormon Girlfriend_ was the spiteful thought that came to Arnold's head; it wasn’t like Kevin to lie like this!) "I can come to ur church if u want to go there instead or we can even ditch if u really don't want to go"

Just as Arnold finished reading the text, another one came up on the screen: "I miss u buddy."

Oh.

"i miss u 2 best friend let me ask my parents real quick"

Arnold couldn't say that he was exactly thrilled, but even through a plain text message on a cell phone, he just knew that the last part was, at least, sincere. Who ever said "I miss you" and not meant it? And if it was just wishful thinking and this was Kevin's cruel way of dumping him yet again, then at least Arnold can look Heavenly Father in the eye and honestly say that he manned up and took it, just like Jesus would've. Nothing good ever came out of running away from your problems after all.

\---

Kevin did not expect the Cunninghams to welcome him into their home with wide open arms, an offer of freshly baked chocolate chip muffins, and big smiles plastered on their faces. It was eerily like the first time Kevin had gone over to Sarah's house for dinner with her family, except the Cunninghams seemed a lot more animated and exuberant with their eager chatter and unending questions and would they please stop talking about his girlfriend already? How did they even know about that? Not that he was keeping it a secret or anything, but he hadn't even told Arnold—

Oh. Yeah, right. Sarah had insisted that he posted his relationship status on Facebook and he had only relented to get her off his back about it. Arnold probably saw it and said something to his parents.

But how did they know that she did ballet? Arnold wasn't that much of a Facebook stalker! … was he?

Okay, so maybe he was. But he could have just asked, too, unless maybe he knew about what had happened between Kevin and Michael McKinley?

Why on earth would Elder McKinley have told him something like that anyway?

"Arnold!" his mother called impatiently up the stairs. "It's not polite to keep your friend waiting. Neither of you wants to be late to church, after all!"

Kevin pursed his lips to keep from saying that maybe they weren't even going to go to church today. Maybe they were just going to go to Starbucks instead. So take that.

"Coming, Mom."

"I'm so sorry about that," said Mrs. Cunningham sweetly. Ugh, that was nauseating. "But you spent two years with him in Uganda, so you know how he is."

Kevin smiled and instead of saying "More than you do" he said, "I'm in no rush. It's not a big deal if we're late anyway."

"But it is! You're on your way to getting back into the Church and Arnold is still so very far away from it! Has it been very difficult? What does the process entail?"

"I, uh…" _Okay, Arnold, quit taking your sweet ass time._ "I'm not too sure, really. I've just been trying to be the best that I can be and hope that it's enough. If Heavenly Father deems me worthy, then everything will work itself out."

Mrs. Cunningham seemed impressed with the answer, but Mr. Cunningham wore a tight frown on his face. "Well, you still might want to double check. It would be a true tragedy if you weren't let back in because of paperwork or some other technicality."

_If you want to see "true tragedy," go to Uganda and see what those people have to live with every single day and see why it was necessary for your son to do what he did. Then maybe the fucking Church wouldn't have judged him so harshly, and you wouldn't either._

But Kevin kept his mouth shut not because of his desire to be an upstanding Mormon, but because he did not want to give the Cunninghams a breath of a reason to forbid Arnold from hanging out or talking to Kevin, even if they did need to hear it and even if it was standing up for Arnold. Kevin was worried about the number he might have done on his best friend already from ignoring him for two whole weeks and to exacerbate it by saying all of that? That was something Kevin could not bring himself to do.

Well, not yet.

Oh, thank God Arnold was finally coming down the stairs. Now they could get out of and far and away from here. Though there was something familiar about that shirt…

"Arnold, your shirt is all wrinkled!" Mrs. Cunningham scolded. "You can't go to church like that, and especially not Kevin Price's church! What about all those sweaters I ironed out for you on Friday?"

"I want to wear this one," said Arnold, his thumb rolling over a dirt stain on the side of it.

Now that Kevin looked closer and saw a rectangular patch on the chest whiter than the rest of the shirt, he knew exactly where he had seen it; it had been the only shirt Elder Cunningham had been left with when they were robbed on their first day in Uganda three years ago! It had taken weeks after the Ugandan missionary had been shut down before the Cunninghams finally sent him more shirts, though none of them were as high in quality and did not last very long at all. Kevin almost didn't recognize it, sitting on Arnold looser than he was used to seeing and without the black tie around his neck. Had Arnold really lost that much weight?

"No, it's dirty. Go and change."

"But Mom—"

"It's fine," said Kevin with a big smile as he stood from the couch. "Looks great, buddy. I should've worn mine, too."

Never mind that unlike Arnold, Kevin had gained weight since coming back to America and the shirt would likely be a tight fit, but hopefully not too tight.

But now Mr. Cunningham was looking disapprovingly at Kevin and Mrs. Cunningham had a face torn of gratefulness and exasperation. Oops, overstayed that welcome. "Well, come on, can't be late to church, and I want to go home and change now. Thank you, Mr. Cunningham, Mrs. Cunningham."

Arnold strained a smile and waved at his parents, grabbing his coat as the two left the house and headed straight for Kevin's car out front. Kevin dug for his keys as Arnold tilted his head at the car and said, "Huh."

"Huh?"

"For some reason I was expecting you in a Corvette or Lamborghini or something really awesome like that!"

Kevin laughed. "How rich do you think my parents are? Nah, got stuck with this clunker. Had her since high school and fixed her up myself."

"'Her'? Oh man, I bet you named your car too, didn't you?"

"I did not—" Well, damn. "Okay, her name is Shelly."

"Shelly? Your first girlfriend's name?"

Kevin shook his head as he whipped out his keys, pressing the button to unlock the doors. "My first girlfriend's name is Sarah."

"The one you're dating now?"

"The one I'm dating now. You'll meet her today if I can't avoid it."

Arnold instantly frowned at that and hesitated getting into the car. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"What? No!" Oh, crap, Kevin really screwed up this time with his radio silence. "No, I'm ashamed of—no one. I'm not ashamed of anyone. Just… just get in the car. I wasn't joking about changing into my missionary shirt. I still have it too, you know. Had to fight my mom to keep it."

"Is it the one with blood stains?" asked Arnold as they climbed into the car.

"The—oh. Oh _God_ no. That one wasn't even mine, remember? Elder Thomas lent me that one. No, the one from our first day in Uganda, since you're wearing yours."

Kevin hadn't kept the others, but mostly because they weren't his to begin with; he had borrowed shirts left and right, refusing to talk to his parents for most of the time while in Uganda even to ask for new shirts. And when he left Uganda, he wore that same shirt he had worn the first day in, leaving the rest behind for the villagers to use themselves.

"You really want to wear it?"

"You were my mission companion and you _are_ my best friend," said Kevin. "Excommunication be damned, I want my entire church to know it."

As Kevin began driving, he did not miss the bright smile that bloomed on Arnold's face. "Really?"

"Yeah. And I'm really sorry for not texting you or calling you like I said I would. Finals. Then family. And girlfriend." He tried not to make a face at the last one.

"Yeah, no, I get it. Must've been a tough semester for you, huh?"

"Eh, could've been worse."

They chatted like this—about school and classes and Arnold talked about the Hobbit movie and how he already saw it ten times and his excitement and apprehensions about Disney buying Star Wars—all the way up until they reached Kevin's house, which was devoid of cars since everyone was already on their way to church. They were greeted only by the barking dogs in the backyard, which was a blessing in itself. Ah, finally, peace and quiet, except for Arnold's babbling, which was music to Kevin's ears, and he smiled the entire time from the car until they reached Kevin's bedroom.

Upon entering, Arnold expressed his immediate awe at what he saw. "This is your room? Cool! Oh, man, you've got such a fancy computer! And you even have a TV in here? Oh, and cool action figures! I didn't know you were a Superman fan! I like Batman and Spiderman more, but Superman's pretty cool too…"

Kevin kept smiling as he pulled open his bottom dresser drawer and found the shirt that he had hidden back there underneath all the things he knew his mother would never dare touch, most of them souvenirs from Uganda that she deemed too dirty to be looked upon. She, and his father, would have rather he get rid of everything from Uganda as the best way to start anew, but the two years in that hellhole were miles beyond anything he had to deal with since coming back to Salt Lake City, and having Arnold once again by his side proved it.

Just as Kevin pulled off the red snowflake sweater that his mother had _insisted_ that he wear, being the service before Christmas and all, Arnold asked, "Hey, so have you talked to Elder McKinley?"

Kevin froze. Really? He really had to ask about that when his shirt was off? "No, why?"

"He's in town, you know. We weren't sure if you were getting any of the emails so I was just asking to see."

Arnold was lying. He knew damn well that Kevin had seen the emails and was blatantly ignoring them. Well, two could play at that game. "No, I haven't seen any emails. Could've missed it, or it went to my spam account."

"Maybe." But Arnold didn't sound convinced. "Well, we're going to go to Benihana downtown tomorrow for lunch if you wanted to come. I'm sure Elder McKinley—oh, wait, sorry, Michael—would be really happy to see you."

"I'll just bet," Kevin murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing. You guys do know tomorrow's Christmas Eve, right? Aren't you both going to be busy doing other things? Family things?"

Arnold shrugged. "My family doesn't really want me around and I'm sure Elder—Michael's family doesn't want him around either since he's gay now and all. Besides, it's just lunch. Or are you too busy?"

Kevin buttoned up his shirt and sighed. At least the fit wasn't too horrible. "Yeah, I actually am, but I don’t want to be. Tell Elder McKinley—"

"Michael."

"—that I said hi, okay? Maybe I can catch up with him after Christmas or something." Or never. "But let's not worry about him. Today's our day. Let's get to church, and then after lunch we can maybe go and see that Hobbit movie if you want. I haven't seen it yet, and I'm sure you wouldn't mind seeing it for the eleventh."

"Is your girlfriend going to come?"

"No. She made me see that new Twilight movie last night. Like hell I'm going into a theater with her again anytime soon."

Then Arnold laughed. Hard. So hard that Kevin was pretty sure he was literally going to die from lack of oxygen. "You saw Twilight? Man, this girl's really got you whipped, huh?"

"No, she doesn't, I don't even—" Well, continuing that sentence was going to open up a can of worms best saved for another day. If ever. And definitely after Elder McKinley was back wherever it was he came from, which was hopefully not too long after Christmas. "Shut up. Come on, let's get going before we're _really_ late."

"Okay, okay." Before they left Kevin's room, though, Arnold threw his arms around Kevin in a tight hug. "I'm glad you're not mad at me, best friend. I thought you were going to dump me."

Kevin hugged back as best as he could, given the awkward angle. "Never was, and I'll never dump you. Sorry I left you out in the cold. I know you've been having a really hard time lately, and I shouldn't have done that."

"No, it's okay."

"It's not. Your parents are jerks, Arnold, and being down at BYU can't be easy for you. Have you even been eating lately?"

Arnold pulled away and stared at his feet. "Dorm food's gross."

"Can't be grosser than what we had to eat in Uganda."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Really?" asked Kevin incredulously.

Arnold only shrugged. Kevin sighed. He really didn't want to see Michael McKinley tomorrow, he really, really didn't want to, but Arnold really couldn't continue on like this. And yet…

"So you're coming over here for Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow," said Kevin. "It's not imposing, don't worry, my parents do this every year for the people at my church. We throw a big Christmas potluck. You can invite your folks to come too if you want. But my brother Jack has an Xbox and I've been playing a lot of Halo with him lately."

Arnold frowned. "I'm not much of a Halo fan—but really? You don't mind? Your parents don't mind?"

"I really don't care what they think, and I'd rather you be here. It would be so much more fun. And we really need to hang out as much as we can before you have to go back to Provo."

"But I thought you were busy."

"I am, but not too busy for you. I can't make Benihana, but come on over as soon as you're done with Elder McKinley."

Then Arnold brightly smiled, and he continued his nonstop chatter all the way back down to the car and on the drive to the church. They wound up being late, but it worked out great, in the end; Kevin didn't have to sit next to Sarah Brown, and everyone gawked at the sight of the two boys, knowing exactly who Arnold Cunningham was on sight and everyone bristling to see him at Kevin Price's side once again. Kevin spent the entire service with a big smile on his face, as did Arnold, and Kevin knew that he could still be Arnold's best friend while avoiding Elder McKinley.

It was just too bad that the first person to approach them after the service was one of the newer members of the congregation, and she introduced herself as Melissa Lane, "Michael McKinley's sister. I think you were missionaries with him in Uganda?"

"Yes!" Arnold cried as he then excitedly talked to Melissa about her brother, and Kevin wanted to run away, far away, from Salt Lake City and never come back. Just when things were finally starting to look up…!

_Heavenly Father, You must be really bored to be fucking around with me like this. God damn, I hate You._


	4. Chapter 4

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, the bus was late and now Arnold was going to be late and actually, he’s fifteen minutes late and Elder McKinley was probably most definitely gone by now and why did his phone have to run out of battery on the way over? He should have charged it last night when Kevin finally dropped him off back home, but he had been too exhausted from the day’s events to even think about it. By the time he woke up to the sugary smell of Christmas cookies in the oven to the screeches of his siblings’ kids as they played with each other up and down the halls, it was too late to do anything more than grab it as he headed out, pulling a sweater over his head and yelling at his parents that he’ll be over at the Prices’ for dinner so don’t wait up.

Not that they would anyway. Would Elder McKinley wait? Arnold was pretty sure he wasn’t going to.

Except that when Arnold threw open the door to Benihana, his eyes immediately fell upon Elder McKinley’s smiling face and they both waved at each other, and Arnold turned to the hostess, who had already turned her attention to a couple who had just walked in, and exclaimed, “That’s my friend!”

She ignored him, but Arnold didn’t mind, because Elder McKinley was still here and didn’t even look upset that Arnold was late, only happy that he was here.

“Sorry I’m late!” said Arnold as he plopped down across from Elder McKinley. “Slept in and then the bus didn’t come on time and my phone’s out of battery and I’m actually not making any of this up!”

Elder McKinley chuckled. “I know you’re not; that happens to everyone. Don’t worry about it. I was running late myself and only got here five minutes ago.”

“Oh! Oh good, good. So how’ve you been—”

Then the waiter came by and asked for drink orders, and to Arnold’s surprise, Elder McKinley, for being an ex-Mormon, didn’t get anything alcoholic or caffeinated. That was weird, because yesterday Kevin had ordered a coffee at lunch, a really large Mountain Dew at the movie theater, and a Pepsi at dinner, though the Pepsi Kevin had looked at oddly and had muttered something under his breath about rum. He had really been in the mood to stick it to the Mormon Church yesterday, hadn’t he?

Arnold had felt really awful for it. He did not miss the wary glances the others in Kevin's church gave him as soon as they put two and two together that this was Kevin Price's mission companion, the one who was excommunicated, but at least everyone talked to him and were really nice about it, careful not to bring up the excommunication or even Uganda, which was harder for them to do when Kevin put an emphasis on it. If Arnold didn't know any better, he was sure that Kevin was trying to make everyone uncomfortable, but Kevin sounded angry, and angry at everyone else when he mentioned Uganda, and was even unnecessarily rude to his own girlfriend by the time she went over to talk to him.

What was going on with Kevin lately?

“So, how are things?” asked Elder McKinley when the waiter left.

“Great!” said Arnold. “Really great. I got straight A’s this semester and I’ve been working out and I joined the speech and debate team and my roommate is really awesome! He likes Star Wars a lot, too!”

By straight A's he meant straight C's with a disgusting looking D in his theology class, and by working out he meant sprinting to classes, and by speech and debate team he meant… well, nothing, except that he wasn't actually on the team at all, but Elder McKinley ate them up. “That’s really great to hear! I was worried about you with, well, you know. The, um, Church and all.”

Arnold knew exactly what he meant. “Oh, don’t even worry about that! The excommunication is no big. They’re apparently thinking about letting me back in since I’ve been doing so good in school. Perfect grades, all the time, top of my class!”

At that, Elder McKinley rose an eyebrow but said nothing. Oh, okay, so he knew that was a lie. It wasn't how the Church worked. But the waiter came back before he could comment on it, and Arnold realized that he had not glanced at the menu even a little bit.

He buried his face into the menu, his mind swirling with all the foreign words in there. Oh man, what did these things even mean? But then the waiter hovered over Arnold expectantly, and Arnold still had no idea—

“We’re sharing,” said Elder McKinley. “It’s all on me, so don’t worry about it. If you don’t like it, they have other food for you to eat.”

“Oh, okay,” said Arnold as he handed the waiter the menu. “What did you get me? Us?”

“You’ll see. I have a feeling you’ve never had this before. You might even like it.”

Arnold shrugged and decided to trust Elder McKinley, for he had never steered Arnold or Kevin or any of the other missionaries who stuck around wrong before. Besides, anything made by the chefs at the other table flinging their food around and catching them in their pockets and making fire volcanoes out of onions had to be making some of the most incredibly delicious things of all time!

“Tell me more about BYU,” said Elder McKinley, and Arnold kept from cringing as best as he could.

“Well, there’s not much to say. You’ve seen it all when you were at the Mission Control Center, right?”

“The MTC,” said Elder McKinley, but it wasn’t to correct Arnold or to chide him or anything; it seemed like he was more talking to himself. “Yeah, but how is it for you? Got friends there?”

“So many friends!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! There’s my roommate who likes Star Wars—” Didn’t like Star Wars. “—and his friends who are all super athletic and stuff, and one’s even on the basketball team, and he’s really, really good! Oh, and all of them have girlfriends. We hang out lots.”

And by that, Arnold meant that sometimes they would sometimes come over to the dorm room (minus the girls, of course, because that was against the rules) while Arnold was in there and they were too nice to ask him to leave or to uninvite him from their outings to the frozen yogurt place. But Elder McKinley didn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Then Elder McKinley shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Arnold froze. No, he did not, because the girl he wanted to be his girlfriend thought that he was dead and in Heaven now, and no other girl would ever be interested in him again ever anyway.

Elder McKinley smiled. “If it helps, I don’t have one either.”

Then Arnold laughed really hard. “Of course you don’t, you’re gay!” Then he realized just how loud he said that and he covered his mouth, his face redder than the time when Nabalanga kissed him on the cheek for the first time. “Sorry!”

“Don’t be,” said Elder McKinley, the smile on his face unchanging. Phew, he wasn’t mad. “I’m not ashamed of it anymore.”

“Good!” cried Arnold without a thought. Wait, was that something he was supposed to be saying if he was supposed to be working to get ex-excommunicated? Oh, well, it wasn’t like anyone from the church was actually here! Mormons didn’t go out for dinner on Christmas Eve; they stayed home with their families. Everyone here was like, Jewish or Catholic or something. “So, what, do you have a boyfriend?”

Was it Arnold’s imagination, or did Elder McKinley look… sad now? The way that his eyes were studying his mango lemonade seemed kind of weird, and really, really off. “No.”

“But you like someone?”

Elder McKinley swirled his lemonade around with his straw and sighed. “I… this isn’t something I want to talk about. It’s stupid, I should’ve gotten over this guy a long time ago but… don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

Arnold had no idea what to say to Elder McKinley. What guy—well, gay guy anyway—in his right mind wouldn’t like Elder McKinley? He was really cool and really nice. But did something happen? Arnold knew he shouldn’t press further but he just had to know, and besides, he and Elder McKinley were supposed to be friends, right?

“You might feel better if you did talk about it. Sometimes it helps me out. Kevin’s a good listener.”

Elder McKinley stopped stirring his lemonade. “Kevin? Price?”

“Yeah, my best friend, remember? You have a best friend too, right? I mean, I could be a sort of best friend, but not the best friend, because I’m Kevin’s, but you can talk to me if you want. You’re like my second best friend.” And my only other friend, Arnold had to keep from saying. “Or you could talk to Kevin! You two are like second best friends to each other, aren’t you?”

“If we were, he would’ve been here,” said Elder McKinley. “It’s okay, Arnold. He doesn’t want to see me. You don’t have to lie about this.”

“But he told me that he was busy, and that he wished he could be here! I’m not making that up! He said so himself when he invited me over to his house for dinner tonight.” Then a thought came to Arnold’s mind. “Hey! Maybe you could come, too! It’s supposed to be a big dinner Kevin’s family puts on every year for their church. Or maybe you’re going to be there anyway! That’s right, we met your sister yesterday at Kevin’s church!”

“I know, she mentioned it to me,” said Elder McKinley. “I’m not going to the Prices' potluck. Kevin—Elder Price does not want me there.”

“Yes, he does!”

“Arnold—”

“If I’m lying about this, it’s only because Kevin lied to me first, and he would never do that! Not to me!”

Never mind that Arnold was pretty sure that Kevin was not only lying to him about certain things but hiding other stuff, but he was also equally sure that Kevin really did want to see Elder McKinley. Besides, why wouldn’t Kevin want to? The two of them had been pretty close in Uganda after all!

“Thanks, but I already told my family I wasn’t going to,” said Elder McKinley with a sigh. “It’d be rude to show up now.”

"No, it really won't! Trust me, Kevin will be so happy to see you there!"

"Well, maybe," said Elder McKinley, but he looked no more enthused. "Anyway, I was asking about if you have a girlfriend or not because of Nabulungi."

At that, Arnold stopped. "Wh—what about her? Is something wrong? Is she okay? Does she have the Internet now?"

"Her village is still a long way yet from getting that, despite the general's and Mafala's efforts," said Elder McKinley. "And she's fine. She misses you, though. She asked me to give you, ah, a 'text'."

He pulled a neatly folded piece of brown crinkled paper out from his pocket and handed it to Arnold, and he took it in earnest. Arnold didn't open it though, a little afraid of what was written inside, and he was confused, too.

"I thought she thought I was dead. And how did you get this?"

Elder McKinley nervously laughed. "Yeah… so I went back to Uganda this summer for a week. They thought I was dead, too. I think they thought I was some sort of angel or something. I don't know, they were really weird about it. Makes me wonder what that going-away party was really all about. But Nabulungi asked me if I'd see you in Salt Lake City and if I could give you that. So…" He flashed him a bright smile. "Merry Christmas, Elder Cunningham."

Arnold flushed and stared at the piece of paper in his hand, his heart pounding, excited and afraid. What would she say? Did she hate him now, too? Was it rude to read this now in front of Elder McKinley or should he wait until he was on the bus to Kevin's house?

"But wait, why did you ask about if I have a girlfriend or not? Is she—"

"I'm sure she told you herself in that note there. Long story short, she still loves you and she always will. That's a promise most people don't ever get. I just wanted to see if you felt the same. Looks like you do, if you haven't even tried to date."

"My parents want me to, though."

"And don't! Don't date if you don't want to. Maybe someday we can figure out how to bring Nabulungi here to America and then the two of you can finally be happy together."

That was something Arnold had never thought about, and his eyes lit up. "You think we can?"

"Why not? It won't be easy with immigration and all of that, but we'll figure it out."

Arnold wanted to hug Elder McKinley, but the big plate of rice rolls came to their table and besides, Arnold wasn't quite sure if hugging a gay guy was really appropriate since hugging girls unless you were dating them wasn't. But he didn't care, he really wanted to thank Elder McKinley, and he had no other way to do it except for maybe—

"Wait, is this sushi?" 

\---

Arnold waved at Michael McKinley through the bus window, and Michael waved back with a big smile as the bus drove off and disappeared around the corner at the end of the block. Then Michael pulled out his phone to keep entertained while he waited for his own bus as his entire family was in a whirlwind to prepare for the big Christmas Eve potluck that Arnold had once again tried to encourage him to going to. That time, at least, he hadn't breathed Kevin Price's name, only proclaiming that it was going to be a lot of fun and how much Arnold really, really wanted him there anyway.

Once again, Michael had told Arnold "maybe" only to get Arnold off of his back about it. He felt bad, but he wanted to keep everyone's Christmases merry and that was only possible if the gay ex-Mormon stayed far and away from any church event, official or not, and especially being one of the three missionaries who would be there who had "failed" in Uganda.

When Melissa had come home from church yesterday, she told him that she had met his friends from Uganda, the other missionaries, the ones who were disfellowshipped and excommunicated, and she was impressed with Kevin but less so with Arnold, but she had left it simply at that. It was only later that night when Michael eavesdropped on her and her husband's conversation that he learned more about her—and the other church members'—discontent with Arnold Cunningham's presence yesterday.

"It's awfully sweet of Kevin Price to do that, to bring his excommunicated friend over and to stand by him," she had said. "But do you think it was really appropriate of him? I mean, this is the missionary that got him disfellowshipped. Mikey would have suffered disfellowshipment if he hadn't left on his own anyway."

Michael had to bite his tongue, but thankfully, Melissa's husband had his head on his shoulders, for the most part anyway. "Kevin Price is a grown adult who can make his own decisions."

"But they've all been bad ones up until recently, and none of them he would've have made before going to Uganda!"

"We didn't know him then."

"Based on what the others at church are saying, he wouldn't have."

"Honey, Uganda is no paradise. I can't believe the Church even sent them out there in the first place. Remember how you and I both reacted to when your brother got sent out there? We thought he was going to die. He still might. Maybe he got AIDS while out there."

"And you think that's why he's gay now?"

Oh, for crying out loud.

"Maybe. Or maybe that since he's gay, he came down with AIDS."

Michael had wanted to barge into their room and yell and scream at them, but he had held his ground. He really had no interest antagonizing the one person outside his mother in the family who still actually loved him.

"That's still no excuse for apostasy."

"No, you're right, it's not. But I'm just saying, we don't know what happened there. Your brother came back changed, and I'm not just talking about his homosexuality. One good thing we can say about Uganda is that it made him grow up, even if it wasn't in the way any of us wanted, leaving the church and choosing to live his lifestyle and running away to Denver."

"There are plenty of Mormon churches in Denver, honey."

"I know, but wouldn't we all have rather that he would've gone to BYU-Idaho, or BYU, or University of Utah if he was really adamant on not being a Mormon? He'd have a better chance at coming back to us."

Melissa had sighed. "I just still can't believe that Cunningham boy is going to the potluck tomorrow."

"The Prices didn't look thrilled about it, either. Maybe he won't, in the end."

Even if Michael McKinley wasn't trying to avoid Kevin Price, how could he put Arnold through even more discontent just by having others in Kevin's church see them hanging out and having fun? Poor guy, Michael had no idea how to tell him not to go, but Michael had no attractive alternative to offer him. All he was going to do was sit at home and watch Christmas movies with a bowl of holiday popcorn and non-alcoholic sparkling wine, and he had a distinct lack of other good ideas besides. Were the outdoor ice-skating rinks even open? Would anything be open tonight? They would have been in Denver, but Denver was a considerably more liberal city than Salt Lake City that thrived on business during the holidays.

But Arnold, at least, seemed completely okay. He even seemed excited to go to the party tonight. So maybe he didn't notice, and what good would Michael be if he was the one who pointed it out? Either Arnold was that oblivious, that excited, or Kevin was doing that good a job at protecting him.

Oh, Kevin. The biggest reason Michael McKinley turned down the invite to the Prices' potluck. No matter what Arnold said, Michael knew that Kevin had no interest in seeing him. Why would he? They were drunk the last time they were together, and they had done things that they should never have done, that they could never have done especially since Kevin was apparently trying so hard to get back into the Church. More than that, however, Michael wasn't sure if he even wanted to see Kevin anymore. Why should he put himself through that? It was time to move on, a long time ago.

And yet…

Would Arnold benefit more by having more friends standing by his side in case anyone dared to say anything to him?

Michael opened up his text messages and typed one to his sister: "Hey sis, be honest, do you really think it's a good idea for me to go tonight? And don't tell me what you think I want to hear."

A minute or two of staring later, she replied: "You are family and you shouldn't spend Christmas eve alone."

"That's not what I asked."

"Yes come."

Oh, if only she knew.

"I'm friends with Arnold Cunningham too. I'm going to be hanging out with him. He's the friend I met up with for lunch today. Are you really sure?"

And that wasn't even the worst of it, but Michael had no interest in sullying Kevin Price's reputation, knowing how quickly rumors flew within congregations. He had already done too much to him as it was, and to destroy his chances at getting back into the Church...

It was longer than a few minutes, and his bus was pulling up just as his sister finally responded, very concisely: "Yes."

She had either been really busy or had to hesitate. Was she lying, or was this the truth? Did she really mean it, or was she saying this only because she thought it was the right thing to say? This was the one thing Michael hated most about texting. He couldn't read people as well as he could face-to-face, or even just in telephone conversations. And most of all, he hated that he had eavesdropped on that conversation between his sister and her husband; he would have taken her at face-value before.

As he boarded the bus, he found that he had no more answers than before, only more confusion. He had been determined not to go to this party before. But seeing Arnold again…

What would be best for Arnold, in the long run? Having as many friends there as possible, or have Michael McKinley stay home to avoid having him deal with more unfounded hatred from the people from Kevin's church? If the former, then he would suck up the awkward that would come from being around Kevin again if only to support their friend, and surely it was something Kevin could agree upon, too; if the latter, then, well...

If only he could convince Arnold Cunningham that going back to the Church of Latter Day Saints just wasn't worth it, but Michael had a feeling that it was too late for that now.


	5. Chapter 5

_Elder Cunningham,_

_I wish you were here. We all miss you terribly and long for your direction. Baba and the general do not agree on too many decisions, and when we wonder what you would do, we find ourselves at a loss. Times have grown darker since you left for Salt Lake City, and though Elder McKinley’s arrival here is a blessing, we desire your presence more than anything._

_I know you are not truly dead. I know that Salt Lake City is a real place, and you are there. I wish I could be there with you, but every time I express this to Baba he becomes upset with me. He still thinks it is a metaphor for Heaven but if you are there, he is not wrong, because Heaven is wherever you are. Uganda was Heaven when you were here._

_I love you, Arnold Cunningham. And until you return, I have sworn myself to celibacy, and I will wait for you even in the Heaven of God._

_With my eternal love,  
Nabulungi Hatimbi_

Arnold rang the doorbell to the Prices’ house, the wrinkled paper Elder McKinley had given him in hand, and he hopped back and forth on his feet as he waited for someone to come open the door. Oh, man, he really should have used the bathroom before he left the restaurant!

Kevin opened the door, the smile on his face washed away by Arnold’s exclamation: “Can I use your bathroom?!” Luckily, Kevin only seemed surprised, not annoyed, and he stepped aside and pointed Arnold in the direction down the hall. Arnold pushed the “text” into Kevin’s hands and made a quick dash for the bathroom, happy to finally relieve himself after an hour of squirming in his seat on the bus when he realized that maybe he had drank too much water at Benihana.

When Arnold finally emerged from the bathroom, he saw Kevin still in the foyer, his brows creased together as he read the note. Arnold gulped.

To his part, Kevin looked sheepish as he folded the paper back up and handed it to Arnold. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I thought it was maybe for me. Guess not. I wouldn’t have read it if I’d known.”

“No, it’s okay!” Arnold exclaimed. “I, uh, wanted your advice on it anyway.”

“Advice?”

No, actually, Arnold did not want Kevin’s advice on it. What could Kevin possibly advise on? Even if Arnold drafted a response, he had no way of getting it back to Nabulungi, and even if he managed to get back to Uganda—well, that was easier said than done! He didn’t have the money, he didn’t have the means, and he was trapped forever in Utah. This letter was all that it could be, and it was more than Arnold had expected, and what else could be done about it? But asking for Kevin’s advice was a far better alternative than being angry at Kevin for reading it, especially since it was an honest mistake, so Arnold decided to roll with it.

“Yeah! Um, well, I don’t know what to really do.”

Kevin eyed the note. “It was pretty… intense.”

Arnold nodded. “Yeah.”

“How did you get it anyway?”

“Elder McKinley.”

“Oh.”

Arnold thought it was weird that Kevin tensed up like that; he probably felt really bad for missing lunch. “Don’t worry, he said he might show up since his sister’s a member of your church and all.”

“Uh-huh.” Why didn’t he look more relieved about this?

“Maybe if you sent him a text or something he really will show up! He seems to think you don’t want to see him, but don’t worry! I told him that you did.”

Kevin nodded and pointed up the stairs. “Let’s just talk about this letter you got from Nabulungi. How did Elder McKinley get it anyway?”

“He went back to Uganda this summer,” Arnold explained as they climbed the stairs to the already familiar warmth of Kevin’s room. Ah, much better. “But he said he can’t afford to go back again anytime soon, so I can’t write a letter and ask him to deliver it for me. And sending it myself through the mail, well, you know how it goes.”

Kevin closed the door. “Yeah, I know, especially with the missionary center gone. And you can’t really afford to go back there either, can you?”

Arnold shook his head.

“Well, why don’t you get a job and save up your money, and maybe by summer vacation you’ll be able to go. Your parents won’t pay for you to go, so don’t even bother asking them, and you’re old enough to drink and vote and do all kinds of crazy adult stuff, so who cares what they say?”

That was not what Arnold expected to hear from Kevin Price, so all he managed in response was a, “Huh?”

“You want to do something about this, right? The way I see it, your options are to send them a letter that they might never actually receive or to go back yourself, or sit back and do nothing because what else can you do? They don’t have Internet or a good phone service, not unless something’s drastically changed since we left, which I doubt. What did—” Kevin paused. “—what did Elder McKinley say about Uganda?”

Elder McKinley had said a number of things: that Mafala and General Butt Effing Naked were constantly at odds with how to run the village and how to continue to spread the Book of Arnold, that the few provisions Elder McKinely had managed to bring them could not have come sooner, apparently, and that warlords from nearby towns and villages were starting to see theirs as a threat, to which Elder McKinley had expressed complete bewilderment over, for they were now a peace-loving village who only fought with words and kindness, not guns, fists, or knives. Worse yet, the Ugandan government was turning its attention towards the village and not in a way that Elder McKinley could smile about it. But instead of telling Kevin all of this, Arnold only managed:

“He said that things were going awesome there!”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Really? Nabulungi said otherwise.”

Uh-oh. “Really! I mean, yeah, things aren’t completely peachy there, but things aren’t completely peachy here, either, and, um…”

“Mafala and the general aren’t getting along, right?”

“Well…”

“How bad is _that_? Did Elder McKinley say?”

“No.”

“Arnold. Don’t lie to me and then have me encourage you to your death.”

Arnold sighed and stared at his feet, refusing to meet Kevin’s eyes. “Well, he did say that, um, things were getting pretty rough there.”

“How rough?”

“Really rough.”

Kevin sighed. “Why lie about this, Arnold? I’m not an idealistic idiot anymore. Giving people faith doesn’t do much good except give them a reason to work towards a better tomorrow. Which is great and all, but I saw the fallout between Mafala and the general coming the instant the general decided to become baptized. No matter how many inspiring words you tell them, they’re going to interpret them their own way and, well, let’s just hope that no one gets hurt from it.”

Arnold shifted his feet and fell to the bed. “That’s not all. Apparently they’re still starving and dying of AIDS and stuff.”

“Well, yeah.”

“And, um. They might be in trouble with the government or something? Something about their religion, and other things, plus, well, the general’s not the only warlord, you know?”

Kevin said nothing for a moment, pacing a complete two rounds back and forth in his room before he settle down next to Arnold. “I take it back. Going back to Uganda is a bad idea.”

“But we have to do something!” Arnold was more taken aback by his own words than Kevin was, who only smiled sadly at him in response.

“We can’t do anything, least of all you. You’d get shot on sight.”

“No, I wouldn’t!” But Arnold knew Kevin was right. “And what about Nabu—Nabu—” He unfolded the letter. “Na-bu-lun-gi. Nabulungi. What about her, huh?”

“Celibacy, damn,” Kevin murmured with a quiet whistle. “I don’t know, buddy.”

“Elder McKinley— _Michael_ said that we should try to bring her to America.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Which means we _have_ to go back to Uganda!” Arnold stood, determined now. “So that we can bring her here! We can bring her, and her father, and—and Sister Kimbay and Elder Mutumbo and—”

“Arnold, stop. Getting Nabulungi here alone will be hard enough, but the rest of her village too? The United States government isn’t as benevolent as you think it is. You could marry Nabulungi, sure, that’ll make things easier, but everyone else, I don’t know, best we could do is try to convert them to real Mormonism and then they could try to come here as a sanctuary or something—Arnold, no.”

Arnold knew the grin on his face was much too wide, but Kevin had a point. If they could get them to believe in all of his stories, maybe getting them to convert to real Mormonism would be a cinch, and then he could really for real this time actually save them.

“That’s a brilliant idea, best friend!”

“No, it’s a stupid idea, forget I said anything—”

“We just have to go back and tell them to believe in the actual Book of Mormon!”

“It’s not going to work that way—”

“Then they can all come here and their AIDS will be cured and they won’t be hungry anymore or on the verge of starving to death or in danger of getting killed or imprisoned or whatever!”

“Arnold, listen to me,” said Kevin as he stood and grabbed Arnold by the shoulders. “It’s not going to be that easy. Just _think_ about it, okay? There’s a lot more involved with that and I really don’t think the Church would pay to get a couple dozen Africans to America. They weren’t willing to do it when they thought we were actually converting them, and they definitely won’t be willing to do it now.”

“Yeah, but we have to try.” Then Arnold remembered something else that Elder McKinley had told him. “Oh! I know! I know what would make it easier! Elder—Michael said that he was studying to become a lawyer or politician or something. That’ll help us too, right?”

Kevin raised his eyebrows, and Arnold had no idea how to interpret that. Was he impressed? “Isn’t he still in undergrad?”

“Well, yeah, but he’s learning all this stuff, so that’ll help, right?”

“I… guess. Are you sure that’s what he said—no. Arnold, we can’t save everyone like that, by bringing them all here. It doesn’t work like that.”

Arnold narrowed his eyes. “We have to try,” he repeated, punctuating each word. Just because Kevin Price had lost something in Uganda did not mean that he had to be such a Negative Nancy about everything. He once said that he believed in Arnold; why was now, here in Salt Lake City, any different than in Uganda?

But Kevin remained unmoved. “Not like this.”

Then the door swung open and Kevin’s brother poked his head inside. “Hey, Mom said to come downstairs, the guests are arriving.”

“Thanks, Jack, we’ll be right down.” After Jack left, pointedly not closing the door again, Kevin continued. “We’ll talk about this more later, okay? Let’s just go grab some food before all the good stuff is gone.”

Arnold sighed, dejected. “Yeah, okay.”

“And hey, Arnold? Nabulungi?”

“Yeah?”

“ _Would_ you be willing to marry her? To get her a green card?”

That question was the most ludicrous thing said all day. “Of course I would! And not just for the green card, but because I lo—” Arnold choked on the word, his face growing hot as he remembered everything Nabulungi had written in the “text.” “Yeah, yeah I would. If she would, you know, want to marry me too, anyway.”

Once again, Arnold could not make sense of the face that Kevin made, but it was gone before he could think about it more or even ask Kevin about it. “Huh. And for the record, buddy? She said she swore herself to celibacy for you. She’d marry you in a heartbeat, if you just asked.”

“Yeah?”

Kevin beamed. “Yeah.”

Arnold grinned at that, his chest feeling like a butterfly was rapidly beating its wings in it. “And hey!” he exclaimed. “I’m sure your girlfriend loves you like that, too! I bet if you proposed, she’d say yes!”

Kevin said nothing to that and only headed out of his room. “Come on, let’s go get some of that food. I definitely want to stock up on any deviled eggs before they’re gone. Then we’ll play video games or something.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Arnold as he bounded right behind Kevin. This Christmas was already shaping up to be a million times better than anything he could have dreamed of.

\---

Kevin had hoped that if he and Arnold swooped down to the dining room quickly enough, they would not have to endure very many pleasantries at all and could easily fly back up to his room to enjoy dinner in peace. Kevin’s hope had been dashed the instant he picked up his plate and saw that Sarah Brown was right behind him.

Now he and Arnold sat in the living room with the rest of the young adult Mormons from church as they ate and chatted and some even tried to engage Arnold, but thankfully Arnold was being Arnold and quickly made everyone else feel uncomfortable with his awkward laughter and random bursts of changing opinions and white lies just so that he could fit in with everyone else. Kevin smiled throughout all of this, especially when Sarah on the other side of him began squirming after Arnold’s sixth out-of-place guffaw.

Better than any of this, however, was when Mrs. Lane showed up without her brother. _Thank you, Heavenly Father, for giving me a little bit of a break for once._

So Kevin finished off the rest of the food on his plate and leaned back on the couch, enjoying every moment that Arnold participated in the rest of the 20-somethings conversation. Finally, nobody had a word to say to Kevin about Sarah Brown because now when they looked at Kevin, they saw Arnold and not her, and when they looked at her, well, they probably saw exactly what he saw. He kept an ear to any fluctuations in Arnold’s voice so that they could escape the instant he faltered, and then they could probably sneak into Jack’s room and play something that Arnold might like, or they could even talk about Uganda some more.

And yet Kevin knew exactly what opening up that line of dialogue would do, and he could never live with himself if Arnold really did decide to go through with his original suggestion of saving up money to go to Uganda. Why had Kevin even suggested it in the first place? He should have known not only from the letter but from pure common sense that for as unpleasant as it was for Arnold to be in Utah again, Uganda would be just as dangerous.

So if Arnold decided to go Uganda, Kevin knew that he would have no choice but to go with him. Hopefully he could persuade him that the only viable option was to propose to Nabulungi and then get the hell out of Dodge and deal with Immigration when the time came.

Maybe it was time to pick up a part-time job himself. Just in case.

Then Arnold perked up and excitedly waved towards just outside the room. “Hey! Elder—Michael! Michael! Glad you came!”

Kevin froze and slowly turned to where Arnold looked, and sure enough, Michael McKinley himself was there, exchanging words with his sister and waving at Arnold with an uneasy smile. Any hope that Kevin had that maybe, just maybe, Michael would not recognize him was gone the instant they locked eyes, and Michael’s smiled faded in favor of a slightly panicked frown and Kevin, well, Kevin found it too hard to breathe.

_Never mind, God, You fucker. You’re really enjoying this, aren’t You?_

Arnold patted the empty seat cushion next to him—nobody had been too eager to sit next to him—and as Michael McKinley approached, Kevin kept his eyes to his knees. He and Arnold really should have made a break for his room sooner, and now it was too late.

At least Kevin could take some sort of glee in the discomfort the other Mormons in the group now showed with their shifting in their seats and wary smiles. Oh, yeah, they knew exactly who this was, didn’t they? The gay ex-Mormon brother of one of their fellow church goers who was also in Uganda to spread the word of the Book of Arnold. Who else could it be? But how much more could they figure out? Could they look at Kevin and then at Michael and just know… but that was stupid. Of course they couldn’t. Mormons liked to think they were many things that they were not, and they were most certainly not mind-readers, thank God.

But the heat of the Ugandan summer night, the buzzing of killer mosquitoes, the chirping of crickets, and the desperate rum-scented panting of two inebriated boys as lips moved across skin and clothes slowly falling by the wayside filled Kevin’s mind that he knew that somehow, someone was looking at him right now, and they knew, just knew, because shame had to be written all over his face and embedded into every little move he made.

He wanted to excuse himself so very, very badly, but he couldn’t leave Arnold to the vultures, and dragging Arnold up to his room with him was no longer an option with Michael McKinley here.

Shit.

Why did Arnold have to insist that he come anyway? Why did Kevin have to lie to him about wishing he could have gone to lunch with them? And damn it, why couldn’t have Kevin just admitted that he had no interest in ever speaking to or seeing Michael McKinley again, and then he could have just lied about why instead of everything else he did?

Damn, no wonder why the Church of Latter Day Saints preached against lying so harshly.

“Kevin, sweetie? Could you come in here and help me with the pies?” his mother called from the kitchen.

Oh, thank God.

“Coming!” Kevin hopped to his feet. “Hey, Arnold, want to come with?”

“Sure!” cried Arnold, but Kevin’s relief was quickly tempered by Arnold turning to Michael and extending the invite to him. Thankfully, the panic was short-lived.

“No, I’m fine, it might get too crowded in there anyway.”

Kevin had no idea what game Michael or God was playing at, but he was willing to take small blessings. Not only was he able to flee the crowd, and Michael, and Sarah Brown, but he was able to take Arnold along with him, and even if it was to endure the housewives bustling about in the kitchen, that was eons better than anything in the living room.

Mrs. Price smiled sweetly at both Kevin and Arnold when they came into the kitchen. “Hello, Arnold,” she said as she pulled one pie after another from the oven. Kevin was still impressed by how many she was able to fit in both of the ovens they had; such was the way of big Mormon families, he had quickly learned after visiting one of his non-Mormon college friends at his home for dinner one night. “Could you two set these on the table out in the dining room? Just on the racks is fine. Thanks.”

As the two completed the task for Mrs. Price, Arnold said, “I’m really glad Michael was able to show up after all! Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Kevin absentmindedly as he set the pies down.

“He doesn’t seem too comfortable though, but hopefully the others warm up to him like they have to me!”

 _They really haven’t_ , Kevin wanted to say but because it was Christmas Eve and he didn’t want to spoil Arnold’s good spirits, he kept his mouth shut. _It’s just the polite thing to do to make you feel included._

“Mmm! And these pies smell really good!”

“Yeah, Mom’s a great cook.”

“You think since we’re helping we get first dibs?”

Kevin beamed. “Of course! The strawberry rhubarb’s my favorite, but I think she’s got a chocolate silk coming out soon, too.”

Well, that was the easiest change of subject ever. And maybe by getting these “first dibs,” they could easily steal away to Kevin’s room and just pretend that Michael McKinley wasn’t here, and Sarah Brown was too much of a nice Mormon girl to try to track him down up there, and then the rest of this party would be a breeze.

They finished setting the table with the pies and had begun cutting their own slices when Mrs. Price called for the guests to come get their desserts. Awesome, they would be well on their way upstairs before anyone else could even get to the line. Perfect. Kevin grabbed his pie and left, stopping in the doorway to wait for Arnold. As Arnold approached with two large lumps of pie—one chocolate and the other strawberry rhubarb—on his plate, Jack exclaimed in a roaring laughter.

“Hey guys! Looks like Kevin’s under the mistletoe!”

Oh God.

Oh no.

Fucking hell.

This was so cliché Kevin wanted to punch something. Preferably his brother. Fleeing was the better option, but as he turned on his heel to make a break for his room, Sarah Brown was unceremoniously pushed into him. He was only happy that he was able to move his plate above his head fast enough to avoid any tragedies.

But wait, wouldn’t a tragedy like spilled pie save him from something like this?

He turned to Arnold for help, but Arnold’s clueless idea of help was to encourage Kevin to kiss his girlfriend because, well, to be fair, this is what boyfriends and girlfriends were supposed to do, right? Except for the part where Kevin had never actually kissed Sarah Brown before.

 _Hasa diga Eebowai indeed,_ fuck _!_

Kevin turned back to Sarah, who was standing much too close to him with her head down and her face redder than any red stocking of the season, and he felt his scowl so harshly that he knew that others could see it, but nobody seemed to care. _Damn it, Heavenly Father, if You wanted to torture me, couldn’t You have found a more creative way to do this? Seriously, now. The Uganda torture was gold. This? What the fuck, Man?_

When Kevin looked up again, his eyes found Michael McKinley’s, and Kevin hated that look on his face, that look of pure sadness, and he hated how that look made him feel, like someone had decided to punch him in the chest, grab all the organs it could, and squeeze until Kevin dropped dead.

So, well, he really had no choice now, did he? Fuck, he hated his life.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered and quickly pecked Sarah Brown on the lips and pulled away as quickly as he could.

He was hoping for cheers and not the jeers that he endured instead: “You call that a kiss?” “Again, with more feeling!” “Can’t believe of all people, Kevin Price is the shy one!”

Bedroom. Now. That was where he needed to go before he had to go through that all over again. As he pushed past the crowd, his eyes looked for and found Arnold, who thought that the spectacle was the most hilarious thing ever, and his eyes looked for and couldn’t find Michael McKinley, which was just as well.

Kevin motioned at Arnold to follow him up the stairs and he hoped that no one, especially Jack, would try to come find them and bother them. He had quite enough of this godforsaken holiday, thank you very much, and he really wished that he had a secret stash of beer or something in his room to drown away this weird… _guilty_ feeling he now had about Michael.

Guilt?

Now that was weird.


End file.
